Dream Dumpster

Where is this, Temperance?
For I can no longer feel my feet within this deep dark mud
Instead, long awaited roots anchoring into the soil.

Where is this, Temperance?
When the storms blow in,
Where I was one to whirl up in the chaos
I bend with ease through the toil,
As if I were only in a breeze.

Where is this, Temperance?
I don’t feel I have gone anywhere
and yet I grow.
Growing up, you say, Temperance?
Growing strong?
Setting my roots and allowing the storms that have passed to water my soul?
So, that I may know myself deeper
and stand in truth, firmly?

So this is where, Temperance?
This is I, this is me, this us, this is we
Always growing…                                                                                                                                                                                                           Yet always where we are meant to be.